Convergence
by vinifera
Summary: In hindsight, slapping Harry Potter in the face during his morning potions class was probably not his best move. This will be a rocky ride down the road of hating, healing, fighting, and Love? We'll see. Slash, probably if that bothers you.


Come on, none of this garbage is mine.

But reviews could be. I could certainly use the advice. If this is well recieved, I may just continue it, but I do need to eat, and your contributions are like fluffy sustenance. The meringue to my lemony curd, if you will. Anyway, enjoy this bit, and I'll have more for you soon.

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In hindsight, slapping Harry Potter in the face during his morning potions class was probably not his best move. He'd probably lose his job, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Severus had been just itching to do that for a long, long time, and really, hadn't Albus been telling him recently that he was too repressed? Too controlled of his emotions? Surely there was a way to blame this on him.

There was certainly no way that it could be that brat Potters' fault.

He'd be damned if he'd shoulder all of the blame himself.

The students had all filed out of his classroom by this point, and the boy was just staring at his obviously insane professor, fish-faced and angry. Unfortunately not silent forever.

"What, it's not enough to verbally abuse everyone around you now you have to resort to actual physical violence? Now that you've killed Sirius snide remarks aren't going to cut it? Don't satisfy your bloodlust, your need to make everyone as miserable as you, you bastard?"

And damned if Severus didn't reach back and strike the brat again, because by now _everyone _was tired of this teenage angst tirade of pure self-righteousness.

"Oh, yes Potter, that's what you want to hear, isn't it? I killed your mongrel godfather. I drove him to go out and do something as unforgivably stupid as getting himself killed…because I was mean to him. Well I'm _so_ _sorry_ Potter. I didn't mean to tease your mutt into an early grave, I just thought he was an adult, even if I may not have been.

And I forgot, also, that you're the _only_ one this war has affected. No one else can possibly comprehend the pain and trouble your life brings you. The ultimate burden of just being you. God knows that there aren't dozens of people out on the field _actually, purposefully_ risking their lives to stop the great evil that so burdens _you. _No one could possibly understand. Tell me, is there anything I can do to make your suffering any less? Please if there is just let me know…no, I already have it. Let's go give it to the Headmaster. Imagine, the gall to just try and shield you, a mere child, from the harsh realities of war for as long as he could. For Christ's sake, why couldn't he have just told you _everything _when you were eleven, so as to rid you of the silly illusion of a happy childhood, the simplicity of having friends when so many don't, and the accomplishments of being truly great at some things, of which you are at many things.

Merlin, he's even worse than me!"

Harry's anger washed over Severus in delicious waves as he trembled in his spot trying to think up a response. When stared in the face at their own childishness all of his angry words melted away. He only had room for one thing in his life, one thing to comfort him and motivate him. One thing to keep him going.

Hell, the only thing Harry got out of bed for.

"I hate you."

The words slipped from his lips so easily. They spilled from his tongue as if it were bleeding. Those words his very essence.

The words came out sounding much more sad than he had originally intended, but it was the only parting shot he had before he turned and left.

His pride stung almost as much as his cheek.

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After Harry had stormed from the classroom (stormed is the word that he was going to use for it) he wondered how far he'd get before he'd run into his shadows. He made it down the hall, and almost ran directly into them as he turned the corner. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him with hesitant expressions on their faces. If it didn't strike him as so sad that he had to instill these reactions in them, he would find the twin expressions funny. He had, however, been seeing more of them than he'd like to recently.

It was what Harry had to do to keep them safe. Being around him was bad news for anyone, and it would be a particularly cruel blow if these two people were taken from him. They were his foundation, and Voldemort couldn't know that. Ever.

There may have been other, less painful ways of going about keeping them safe, but Harry didn't think he was smart enough to figure out what they were.

And really, what's one more sacrifice for the cause.

Most of what He had been ranting about was truly Harry ranting, but not all of it. Some of it he did just to release frustration, some of it he felt justified in, and some of it was to keep those who would be close to him at a distance.

Hell, not even Harry wanted to be particularly close to himself most of the time, but that had been his story most of his life.

And one of the few things that he maybe had to live for were both still just looking at him, waiting to see his reaction, to see if he pulled the first move so they could take their cues from him.

When he just stared moodily ahead and started to walk slowly down the hall, obviously waiting for them, but obviously not for long they trailed after. Even dared to speak.

"Harry, are you alright? He didn't do anything else to you did he? I think we should go straight to the headmaster. Imagine, hitting a student! I didn't think that even Professor Snape had it in him!"

"Twice." Was all Harry replied.

Ron now, picking up Hermione's confusion to voice her question asked, "Twice what Harry? Just how hard did that ponce hit you?"

"He hit me twice. And I don't want to talk about it, and I don't want to go to the headmaster about it, I just want to go to my next class and forget it, okay?"

"But Harry, you can't just let him…" Before she had the chance to finish her protest Harry had spun to face her with a dark look on his face.

"Damn it Hermione, I said drop it!" His shout had stopped both of his friends in their tracks, and a dull ache throbbed throughout his being at the hurt looks that crossed their expressions. As he was turning his backs on them to keep walking he could see Ron start to come toward him, very clearly very pissed, but a hand on his arm from the abused girl stopped him. They let Harry walk a few paces in front of them before continuing as well.

Their friend was headed down a troubled path, and it seemed he wanted to be alone.

That just wasn't going to cut it with them.


End file.
